


Always look behind you, Deleted Scenes

by AlpineFresh



Series: Post apocalypse (no zombies) AU [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (no zombies), Angst, Fluff, Gen, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlpineFresh/pseuds/AlpineFresh
Summary: I ended up cutting quite a bit out of 'Always look behind you' because things weren't flowing properly and also certain people would have ended up dead if I didn't rework things because I have very little control over what they decide to do.I thought it might be cool for people to see the things that could have happened, so these are the deleted scenes for anyone interested in reading them.
Series: Post apocalypse (no zombies) AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996882
Kudos: 40





	1. What could have been

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first rendition of the fic, before I decided humans could mutate too, so Bad and Techno are normal bois in this. (Also Techno isn't a well known badass in this)
> 
> Deleted scene takes place right after Tommy goes to Nora's group. Nora's group isn't actually much of a group, and just a small family trying to get by. (Music scene with Wilbur is still in this, just at a different point in time. Feel free to skip over it instead of rereading that part)
> 
> I forgot how much I wrote for this before I ultimately decided to scrap it because it didn't feel right. But now that I'm seeing it again, it almost hurts, like... Man...
> 
> TW: Violence,

Tommy sat alone in the dark, staring blankly down at the knife in his hands. He hated that he had to betray them, they treated him with nothing but kindness, and how was he going to repay them? By doing the exact same thing that happened to him when he last trusted someone.

A hesitant knock on the door brought him back to the present, putting the knife away and looking up. 

Nora’s daughter, a six year old who was a little too quiet for her age opened the door. “Tommy, dinner’s ready,” she informed him softly.

“Thank you, Abby.” _Good for nothing traitor_ , his mind spat venomously to himself.

The girl lingered for a second longer, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something before quickly closing it and running off.

Tommy sighed, he hated this. He briefly considered coming clean, Nora and her wife were really nice, they would help him. Those thoughts were quickly tossed to the side when he remembered what was at stake. The only remaining photos of his friends and family were in the hands of those gang members. 

He couldn’t lose those- what if he forgot what they looked like, he was already starting to have trouble remembering some of their voices. He didn’t want to forget about any of them.

Tommy got to his feet and made his way to the main room where the nice little family was scooping portions of canned soup into plastic bowls. The fire that was used to cook it was already smothered with sand and reduced to dying coals.

He accepted his food and sat a few feet away from them, knowing full well that he didn’t deserve any of the kindness they offered.

“Tommy,” Nora started, causing the teen to look up.

Nora’s wife reached out to hold her hand, giving a reassuring smile. Tommy felt a spike of anxiety, did they somehow find out about what he was going to do? What would the gang do if he was found out on his first mission?

“I really hate to say this but-” _here it comes,_ “-I’m not sure if we’ll ever find your parents.” _What?_

Tommy looked up in shock, that wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Look, I know this is probably the opposite of what you wanted to hear, but we didn’t want to keep giving you false hope. Just know that we’ll always be happy to have you here,” Nora’s words would have been reassuring if not for the harsh truth that loomed ever present in the forefront of his mind.

He wanted to scream obscenities at the world that continued to fuck him over. He wished he could go back in time, find a way to prevent all of this from happening.

But time travel isn’t possible and the world would never care about his frustrations. So Tommy met Nora’s eyes and smiled at her… 

The tears pricking at his eyes were real.

\---

Tommy stood in front of the neatly stacked pile of canned food with an empty bag in hand. He wouldn’t take all of it, just enough to convince that horrible gang.

He told himself it would all be worth it in the end as he started quietly placing cans into the open bag.

“Tommy.”

His heart leapt into his throat, he turned his head to see Abby with a somber expression. 

“So, you’re really leaving?” She asked.

Tommy blinked, the way she phrased that. “You _knew_?”

She nodded, “Mom and Mum don’t know yet… Why do you have to go? I don’t want you to go!” Her voice cracked with despair, tiny fists clenching at her sides.

Tommy bit his lip, guilt eating away at his insides. “You know how you have your moms? I don’t have my Mom and Dad, I lost them. Now some bad people have the only thing I had left of them. This is the only way I can get them back,” he tried to explain.

Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks at this point as her lower lip wobbled. “My moms can be your moms too!”

Tommy shook his head, “You wouldn’t want to have new moms, right? I already have parents, and I wouldn’t trade them for everything, even if… Even if they’re not really here,” the last part was said quietly.

“Okay… Can I say goodbye?” She asked hopefully.

Tommy smiled through the pain in his chest, opening his arms. Abby launched herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his midsection and sobbing quietly. 

Not for the first time, Tommy felt hatred for the gang fill him. How dare they make him hurt innocent people like this? They better give him his shit back for this.

The girl stepped back and wiped at her face with the palms of her hands. “Bye bye Tommy, I hope you find your parents.”

And then she was gone and Tommy was alone again… He got back to work.

\---

Tommy stood at the meetup point, an old gas station that had already been ransacked to hell and back. “I did what you wanted, now give me back my photos,” he demanded.

“ _Ah, ah, ah_ \- you’ve still got another week of work ahead of you,” The gang leader pointed out.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from hissing an insult. That was technically the deal they made, it would all be worth it- it had to be worth it.

“What do you need me to do next?” He forced out through gritted teeth.

The man smiled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I’m glad you asked.”

\---

Tommy took a breath to calm his beating heart, apparently this next group was only slightly bigger than the last, but had a fearsome history of raiding and attacking random travelers. The gang leader said the only way he’d get in is by beating one of the group members in a fight.

He remembered looking at him like he was insane, he barely had three days worth of training under his belt. Surely that wasn’t nearly impressive enough to earn the respect of a group that apparently specialized in fighting.

The gang leader laughed at him, giving him a strong pat on the back. “ _Don’t worry, as long as you pick the right person, you’ll get in without a hitch,”_ he had claimed.

And that was how Tommy ended up face to face with a masked man with an axe on his hip and wearing a bloodstained green hoodie, the man’s group standing behind him like a pack of hungry wolves. He tried not to feel intimidated by the sharp stares that followed his every movement.

_Confidence is key, even if all of it is faked_ , he reminded himself internally. He straightened up and looked the leader in the eyes, or, more accurately, the darkened eye holes carved into the mask. “Let me join your group.”

Tommy fought off the creeping fear as silence stretched on, before-

“Alright, beat one of us in a fight, weapons allowed, your pick,” the masked man decided.

Tommy swept his gaze over the group, eyes landing on a man donning a black outfit with vibrant red accents, his face was shadowed by a hood. While the man appeared to be the scariest out of his options, apparently he was the softest out of the group.

He pointed at the man, “Him, I wanna fight that guy.”

The masked leader signaled for his opponent to come forward, “Alright Bad, you’re up.”

He could just barely make out the wide grin on Bad’s face through the shadow. “You’re going down, you ragamuffin!”

_Ragamuffin?_ “Whatever, bitch,” Tommy scoffed.

“Hey, _language!”_ Bad scolded.

Tommy furrowed his brows, what kind of idiot cared about moderating curse words during an apocalypse? Know what? Fine, he’d play along for the time being. As dumb as it was, it would be even worse if he fucked up his chances because he said a few swears.

"Alright, so are we gonna fight?" Tommy pulled the knife from its sheath.

Bad nodded, taking out a knife the size of his forearm. Was this seriously the easiest opponent?

The masked leader raised a hand, "No serious injuries on either side, first to pin and immobilize the other wins." The man took a step back.

"Fight." His hand dropped.

Bad didn't waste a moment, darting forward with a sideways slashing movement. Tommy just barely dodged in time, blade nicking his arm.

Tommy pushed forward, tapping into the instincts drilled into him with surprising ease. He shifted to the side to avoid another hit and then in the same movement stepped closer to his opponent, delivering a swift cut to the man’s arm before jumping back to evade the elbow coming for his face.

The fight was going way smoother than expected, only a few stinging cuts on his end. He honestly expected the fight to be a lot harder.

And then he noticed something, Bad was restraining himself. 

Any time the man was about to land what would have been a fight winning attack, he purposely changed the angle of his attack. Was this what the gang leader meant when he said the hooded man was the softest out of them?

If the man wouldn't fight him seriously, then Tommy had nothing to fear. 

He dashed forward and slammed the hilt of his blade into Bad's chest, momentarily stunning the man. Tommy ducked under the man's arm, slipping behind him and twisted Bad's arm behind his back at the same time as he put the knife to the man’s throat.

There were a few beats of tense silence as Tommy waited for the leader's answer.

"Bad, can you move?"

Another moment of silence, and then…

"No, the memer got me good," Bad conceded defeat.

Tommy saw the masked man's smile peeking out from under the mask, "Then I guess you're in." He nodded in approval.

Tommy relaxed, quickly bringing the knife away from Bad's throat and putting it back on his hip. 

Bad turned around with a bright grin, his hood had fallen during the fight, revealing green eyes behind a set of glasses and light brown hair. “Welcome to the Muffinteers!"

There was an exasperated groan from one of the group members. "For the last time Bad, that's a shit name that I refuse to go by."

" _Language_ ," Bad snapped before continuing.

"Besides, what do you know about group names, Sapnap? Muffinteers is a great name!" He insisted.

Tommy looked over, the guy, apparently named Sapnap, rolled his eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The masked man clapped his hands together, gaining everyone's immediate attention. "Alright, no more fighting you two. We have work to do,” he announced.

“But first-” the masked man gestured to himself, “-my name’s Dream, this is Sapnap, George, and Bad. Welcome to the Dream team.” Dream gestured to each of his teammates as he introduced them.

“Are you shitting me right now? I’m actually starting to think ‘ _The Muffinteers’_ was a good team name,” Tommy deadpanned before he could stop himself.

“Aaa- language!” Bad exclaimed as Dream laughed.

“Fair point, but it’s a part of our brand now,” Dream pointed out with a shrug.

Jesus, he hoped he wouldn’t have to be with this self centered prick for too long. The group was staring at Tommy expectantly, and he realized with a jolt of embarrassment that they were waiting for him to introduce himself. “Uh- I’m Tommy,” he said a little too loudly.

Bad flicked his hood back up and held out a hand, “Nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy hesitated for a moment before firmly shaking the hand of a man he was destined to betray with the false pretense of friendship. “You too.”

\---

“Look, see, it’s really easy!” Bad poked the needle and thread through the fabric of his torn garment.

Tommy looked to his own needle, which had gotten tangled up and knotted in string. “Yeah, but you see the thing is that I don’t really care about sewing. My shirt didn’t even get damaged,” he pointed out.

Bad's good mood seemed to wilt slightly, hand faltering mid stitch. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he mumbled.

Tommy felt a little bad about upsetting the man who was just trying his best to be welcoming. Maybe if the circumstances were different, he would have changed his mind and tried to learn sewing. 

He refused to allow himself to care about this new group, he got attached last time and as a result he still felt horrible and guilty about betraying them. It would be different this time, he would only do what was necessary to fit in and he wouldn’t feel bad about betraying them (that was a lie).

Tommy set the mess of a needle and thread down beside him and stood up, “I’m going to go take a walk,” he informed Bad before he got moving

“Stay safe!” Bad called after him before he walked out of sight.

The teen didn’t answer as he slunk out of the building they set up temporary camp in and out into the streets. He missed being around other people, he wanted to say fuck it, to go back to the dream team and never leave. Or maybe he could go back to Nora’s family, take Abby up on her offer.

That wasn’t an option though, he’d already committed and there would be no going back now. His eyes caught on one store in particular, the large viewing window long since smashed to scattered shards.

Inside were various musical instruments, including a dusty upright piano sitting in the back. A slow smile crept onto his face, when was the last time he played piano?

Tommy hopped through the broken window and trotted over to the piano. He brushed his fingers over the keys, wrinkling his nose at the thick layer of dust coating them. The next few minutes were spent diligently cleaning the piano to the best of his abilities.

He sat down on the sturdy piano bench, letting his fingers slip into familiar spots on the keys and played a few experimental chords. Tommy was pleasantly surprised upon realizing that it was only a little out of tune.

The first thing he did as he tried to remember which songs he knew how to play was play one of the first songs he learned without the help of his instructor.

Megalovania. 

Come on, did you really expect the first song he played after going so long without a piano to be classical and fancy? No, he needed this, needed the familiarity of the song he had listened to a countless amount of times.

Muscle memory began to kick in as he switched chords and slid into a different song. He hit the wrong notes on occasion, but it brought a smile to his face nonetheless. It reminded him of simpler times, playing the old classical song his piano instructor had made him practice for weeks and weeks on end. He remembered being frustrated at the time, but now he couldn’t be more grateful to have learned it.

He let himself be absorbed into the flow of the sound, his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease. Music filled an otherwise silent world, filling him with a sense of satisfaction and hope. Not everything was broken and shattered, things weren’t always horrible.

He didn’t notice the way tears blurred his vision as the song sped up, playing with an urgency few others would have understood. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he was supposed to be quiet, that anyone could hear him. The world faded around him and all that mattered was the melody that filled the empty air.

His eyes were closed as his fingers pressed the last keys of the song, not moving them even after the sound faded away.

Clapping from close behind had Tommy standing up and gripping his knife in a panic. 

A tall man with wavy brown hair paused mid clap, blinking in surprise at the knife pointed at his chest. “You can put the knife away, if I was going to kill you I’d have done it while you were distracted.

Tommy narrowed his eyes, why did he recognize that voice? “Who are you?” He demanded.

The tall man raised a brow, “Wilbur Soot, at your service. Now please move the knife, it’s a bit rude.”

Wilbur… Wasn’t he part of that group that apparently took down a full camp of hunters over a week ago? Tommy lowered the knife and stepped back to keep a safe distance between him and Wilbur. He didn’t sheath his blade, holding it in a white knuckled grip just in case the man decided to attack him.

Wilbur glanced briefly to the weapon in his hands before looking over to the piano. “You were pretty good with that, how long have you played?” He asked casually.

Was the man trying to lure him into a false sense of security? Just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike?

Wait- how long _had_ he been playing piano for? His mother first took him for lessons when he was… _Eight_? How old was he now? If he was almost thirteen when everything went to shit, and if it was late spring in the third year of being on his own, that made for…

“Eight years? Though I haven’t played since before this whole thing happened,” he explained.

Wilbur hummed, “I play a few instruments of my own, mind if I strum a few chords?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged awkwardly, still wary of the man. “Do whatever you want, I guess.”

Wilbur turned his back to Tommy and picked his way over to the guitar section. An unfortunate amount of them were laying damaged on the dusty carpeted floor. The brunet grabbed one of the few intact acoustic guitars off of the rack and did a quick test strum before going straight into tuning.

Tommy couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that guitars could be tuned so much easier than pianos. If Tommy tried to tune the piano, he’d be much more likely to completely ruin the insides as opposed to actually fixing anything. 

Wilbur sat cross legged on the floor and began to strum a familiar tune that had Tommy perking up slightly. He put away his knife and sat at the piano once again, fingers drifting over to the correct keys.

He waited until Wilbur got back to the chorus before joining in with the piano. He heard Wilbur’s strumming falter for half a second before it came back even stronger.

He played music with Wilbur until his hands were cramped and sore from going so long without practice. Tommy could tell his music buddy was in a similar position by the way he flexed his fingers slowly in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

Tommy grinned over at Wilbur, a type of raw joy he hadn’t experienced in years bubbling up in his chest. Wilbur met him with a charming smile of his own, doing one last happy strum with reddened fingertips.

“Are you on your own? You could join my friends and I if you’d like,” Wilbur offered.

Tommy’s immediate reaction was to say yes, of course he wanted to go with the musician. And then his good mood dampened as he realized he had to refuse. “Sorry big man, I already have a group. I doubt they’d be too happy with me up and leaving like that,” he sighed.

“That’s fine, man. You've gotta take care of your people.” Wilbur nodded understandingly.

_But they weren’t his people and he wanted nothing to do with them_! His mind was shouting, frustration boiling just under his skin. Instead of vocalizing those thoughts, he stood up and stretched.

“Welp, I oughta get going now. Take care, big dubs!” Tommy waved goodbye, trying not to feel too disheartened by the fact that he’d likely never meet the man again.

Wilbur laughed, waving back at him, “You too, weird child!”

Tommy exaggerated a pout that, now that he thought about it, definitely didn’t help Wilbur’s opinion. “If not for the fact that I have somewhere to be, I’d have started _stabbing_ shit!” He insisted, flipping his middle finger up at the man he wished he could call a friend.

Wilbur’s joyous laughter echoed through the empty streets as Tommy walked away with heavy shoulders.

\---

"Where were you?" Dream grabbed him by the shoulder, tone low and threatening.

Tommy had to remind himself not to be too confrontational. "Didn't Bad tell you? I went on a walk," he said simply.

The masked leader didn't let go of him, "For _three hours?"_

Tommy looked away, staring at the mask made him uncomfortable. "I found a music store," he mumbled.

Dream's grip loosened, "A what?"

The teen sighed, "I used to play piano a lot, there was a music store and I ended up getting sidetracked," he admitted a little louder.

"Where is it?" Dream questioned. 

Tommy looked at the man weirdly, why did he want to know? Did he play any instruments before the world decided to fuck everyone over?

”It's like, twenty minutes of walking. Shattered windows, you'd have to be fucking blind to miss it." Tommy pointed in the general direction.

Dream finally let go and thanked him quietly before stalking over to where George and Sapnap were arguing loudly about something that sounded dumb. "Fucking weird-"

" _Language_." Bad seemed to appear by his side out of nowhere.

Tommy groaned, "I am simply _expressing_ myself, are you against freedom of speech?"

Bad tapped his foot against the pavement. "Of course not, I just think you should set a better example!" He explained.

The teen raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Set an example for who? _Them?"_ He jabbed a finger at the still bickering group members.

"No, for the-" Bad cut himself off, looking down with an expression Tommy could only begin to describe as depressed.

"I was gonna say _'for the children'_ , but I guess I don't work at a daycare anymore," Bad mumbled.

Tommy swore he could see tears building up in the man's green eyes.

Fuck, now he felt kind of bad. He just wanted to mess with Bad a little bit, not make him cry. “While I won't stop swearing, because there's absolutely nothing wrong with it… I promise I won't swear around children," he- well, lets be honest, he completely was lying, but what else was new.

But it made Bad give him a wobbly smile nonetheless, "But that would mean you have to stop swearing forever, because _you're_ a child!" He pointed out cheekily.

Tommy frowned, "I am _not_ a child. I am a big strong man who does _very manly_ _things_."

Bad started giggling, "Sure thing, Tommy."

"Bitch," Tommy muttered.

Bad gasped sharply, " _Language_! You'll set a bad example for yourself!"

Tommy suppressed a smile as Bad broke off into more giggling, earlier sadness completely forgotten.

\---

  
  


Tommy was flat up against the side of a building, trying to keep his nerves at bay as he waited for the signal. This would be his first raid against another group. The most experience he had was from the few times he managed to steal from groups in the middle of the night.

He saw Sapnap nod at him from the building across the street. Tommy kept the plan in mind as he climbed through a window. He stuck close to the walls, cringing every time his footsteps made unintentional noise.

An arm slid around his neck and pulled him back against another person, his panicked squeak was muffled by a calloused hand over his mouth.

Tommy's limbs locked up as his instincts conflicted with each other. Part of him wanted to fight back, while the other part of him wanted to cooperate to give less of a reason for the stranger to kill him.

"State your name and case," a deep voice demanded.

The hand moved away from his mouth to give Tommy the chance to speak. "I, umm- totally _not_ stealing. You know what they used to call me? They called me _Tommy_ _trusty_ , I've never lied a day of my life!" He began to panic ramble.

  
  


His captor was dead quiet and Tommy laughed nervously and continued to ramble, "You know, really love the way your base looks. It's not quite as crumbly as the other buildings, and is that mahogany? You'll have to tell me because I don't actually know what mahogany is-"

"So, what did you hear Techno… _Tommy?"_ Wilbur, of all people, turned the corner.

Wait, if Wilbur was here, that meant he was at the mercy of the group that took out an entire camp. "Hey there big dubs, what a surprise!" Tommy greeted awkwardly.

“You know this orphan?" Techno asked.

“Please don't call me an orphan, they might still be alive," Tommy mumbled before he could stop himself.

“ _Techno_ _!"_ Wilbur hissed, glaring at Techno over Tommy's shoulder.

" _What?_ I assume every kid is an orphan, you know this!"

Wilbur let out an exasperated sigh before reaching over and pushing Techno’s arm off of Tommy. The teen was quick to put space between himself and Techno. 

Was this his first time actually seeing what Techno looked like? The man had a thin gold crown on top of light pink hair and he was wearing some kind of regal red and white coat. What was he, a knock off Santa Claus? 

"I found him sneaking around, _'not trying to steal from us_ '," Techno said with air quotations.

"I didn't know it was your group, and besides it wasn't my decision anyway!" Tommy rushed to defend himself.

Techno stiffened, hand dropping down to grip- was that a fucking sword?!

”How many people are you with?" Techno demanded.

Was Tommy really going to sell the group out like that…?

Yes. The answer was yes, one hundred and ten percent he was. Wilbur was the closest thing he had to a friend and he didn't trust Dream not to resort to murder. "Four people. George, Sapnap, Bad, and that green bastard named Dream. Bad's okay, if a bit of a strange man, but the rest are annoying bitches," Tommy listed off.

Techno blinked, obviously not expecting him to give in so easily. The man quickly got over his surprise, expression serious. "How strong are they, and how much do they care about you?"

\---

A hostage situation wasn't exactly what he was going for, but he really shouldn't have been surprised given his history.

After Tommy filled the two in on what little information he had on the Dream team, Techno started giving out orders. He was briefly introduced to Phil before being pulled away by Wilbur.

“Sorry about this," Wilbur muttered as he brought the knife up to Tommy’s throat, careful not to let the metal actually touch the teen.

Tommy gave a discreet nod and let Wilbur lead him outside with Techno and Phil on either side. The teen tapped into his deception lessons and forced tears to spring to his eyes, making his lower lip wobble and appearing terrified.

"Show yourselves or the kid gets it," Techno's voice carried through the streets without even having to raise it.

No movement… "Five… Four… Three-"

Bad ran out from the building across the street, glaring back over his shoulder briefly. "Don't hurt him, it wasn't his plan." The hooded man was already pulling out a knife in each hand.

"Of course not, why would a lackey be the one in charge of planning," Techno said flatly.

Tommy noticed Bad's grip on the knives tighten ever so slightly. "What do you want?" 

Wilbur spoke up this time, "First, we want your friends to come out into the open. We can discuss this like civilized people," he said smoothly.

Bad kept his eyes on them as the rest of the team came out from the building. Dream didn't walk out with them.

"I said all-" Wilbur made a choked noise as he was suddenly torn away.

Tommy whirled around to see the tables had turned drastically. Wilbur was in the same position Tommy had been in moments prior, only this time it was real. Dream had Wilbur's dominant hand twisted behind his back and a knife against his neck.

Tommy could feel the panic rising within him. This wasn't part of the plan.

"New plan, you give us your supplies and I don’t kill your teammate,” Dream proposed.

The teen saw Phil and Techno tensing out of the corner of his eye, this wasn’t good. How could he bring the situation back into their favour? He couldn’t sit back and let Wilbur die.

“How about we talk about this, you know, I kinda liked the whole talking like civilized men thing,” Tommy tried, nails digging into his palms as he tried to stop his distress from showing.

“Tommy.”

He bit his lip, “Yeah, Dream?”

“Go back to Bad,” the masked leader ordered in a tone leaving no room for argument.

“But-”

Wilbur gave him a look, “Go back to your group.”

(Yeah, I think you can see why this was scrapped. I couldn't find a way to save Wilbur, he'd have died if I let the fic continue on this path, which would also result in quite a few other deaths as Techno falls into a violent rampage)


	2. Bit with Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was also before I decided to make Bad mutated. It takes place after Wilbur, Tommy, and George get snatched by the pigeons. I ended up deleting the bit instead of copying it into a separate doc, but basically, Felix (Gang leader) showed up with his posse as canon. The perspective stayed there a little longer and Felix got one of the gang members to bring Abby and the kids back to her group (that still happened, I just didn't find a good enough reason to mention it in the main fic). 
> 
> They brought Bad back to one of their bases so that their only competent medic could make sure that he didn't bleed out and die. (though that part wasn't explicitly written, it was just a time and perspective shift.)

“Oh… You’re already awake.”

Bad’s eyes snapped open, head turning to look at the source of the unfamiliar voice.

A woman with thick blond hair and a dark bandana around her neck stared back at him, barely visible in the low light. “Your companions have already left to locate the nests,” She informed him in a faintly German accent.

Bad narrowed his eyes, already… Left? What nests? He racked his brain for information, how did he even get hurt?

Memories of suffocating heat creeping in on him as he lowered the kids to safety resurfaced. Followed by engaging in combat with a couple of strangers, his memory was a little foggy around the end, but he remembered seeing a white porcelain mask looming over him before he lost consciousness.

“Lucy! Is my dog okay?” Bad gasped.

The woman grimaced slightly, "It's not hurt, but Felix ain't exactly fond of mutants," She explained.

Bad staggered to his feet, clenching his teeth against the strengthening pain in his side. "Where is she?"

The German lady sighed, muttering something about reopening injuries before gesturing for Bad to follow her out of the room. 

Bad was led through a maze of dark hallways, he made note of the rain pattering against the occasional window. They came to a stop in front of a closed door, the sound of rattling metal and familiar high pitched whining could be heard from the other side.

He didn't wait for the woman, hastily throwing the door open to reveal a room filled with various empty metal cages. Rat, who had been pacing anxiously in her way too small cage, perked up when he entered.

“Rat!" He exclaimed, rushing over to fumble with the latch on the cage. 

The mutated dog waited patiently, three tails thumping happily against the floor. 

The cage door swung open with a creak and Rat immediately barreled out, launching herself at Bad. The man giggled at the sensation of his dog licking his face happily.

They sat like that for nearly a full minute before Rat calmed down. Bad gave her one more appreciative scratch behind the ear before standing up and turning back to the German lady.

“What was that you said about people leaving?" He asked.

The woman ran a hand through her thick hair with a heavy sigh. "Right, you were out cold when it happened,” She muttered irritatedly before continuing.

“From my understanding, you were fighting one group, another showed up and intervened, and then people from each group were abducted by mutant pigeons,” She listed off flatly.

Bad’s eyes widened, if people from each group got taken, did that mean, “Where’s my group? Are they okay?” He demanded.

She leveled Bad with a hard stare bordering on a glare, “I was getting to that. Don’t expect me to know all of their names, because I don’t exactly care- but Tommy, dumbass with goggles, and tallass were taken. Boss and the remaining from groups, excluding your cowardly excuse of a group, set off to take them back before they get eaten.”

What?! He could already picture Tommy in the talons of one of those overgrown birds, hurt and defenseless. It made a cold anger coil within him, "Where are they headed?" He asked tightly.

The woman crossed her arms, Bad couldn’t make out her exact expression, but he was pretty sure it was a disapproving one. “Let me get one thing clear-” she took a step forward, “-we aren’t on the same side. Boss may have decided to help out this time, but I’m under no further obligation to assist you.”

Bad paused, “Then why did you show me where Rat was?” He puzzled, feeling a tad lost with her thought process.

“We have no need for mutants, all it would do is take up our resources,” she said dismissively.

The injured man bit his lip lightly, already feeling guilty for what he was about to do.

“If we’re not on the same side-” Bad took out one of his knives and darted forward swiftly, pressing the knife against the woman’s throat and slamming her against the wall with his other arm, “-then I guess I don’t have to worry about being polite.”

The German glared darkly at him, baring her teeth. _“Fine-_ you wanna run to your death that badly? Head south, toward the old community center.”

Bad let her go and sheathed his knife before tugging his hood up over his head, “Thank you, sorry for doing that,” he apologized before clicking his tongue and signaling for Rat to follow.

“I hope you die,” she scoffed.

The man winced, yeah, he probably deserved that, he thought as he walked away with Rat by trotting by his side.

Whatever, he’d have all the time in the world to feel horrible about his actions later. He had to go save Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Scraps posted. See you soon-ish! (probably)

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha, I just moved a couple days ago, so I haven't been writing as much as I would like to. Also I now have access to a VR headset and beatsaber... Super fun game, but it also means I keep getting even more distracted than I already do, lol. So if it takes a week or two for me to get another fic out, that's probably why.


End file.
